


How do I get there from here?

by mergatrude



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_kinkmeme, Dubious Consent, M/M, Past Abuse, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mergatrude/pseuds/mergatrude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He knew there’d be things about being someone else that he’d like.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	How do I get there from here?

**Author's Note:**

> Written anonymously for a [duesouth_kink](http://duesouth-kink.dreamwidth.org/) prompt for [F/K/V, submissive Vecchio](http://duesouth-kink.dreamwidth.org/756.html?thread=108276#cmt108276). De-anoning with encouragement from China Shop.

_Vegas_

He knew there’d be things about being someone else that he’d like. Trying to keep his head straight and know the line between himself and a mobster didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the finely tailored suits, subtly expensive jewellery and racks of shoes hand-tooled in more kinds of leather than he ever thought possible. He was surprised how much he appreciated ‘his’ sense of order, the concern for minutiae, the structuredness of ‘his’ day, from that glass of buttermilk first thing in the morning to his silk pyjamas neatly laid out for him at night. Everything regular like clockwork; made it easier to slip into the role, less chance of a slip-up.

What he hadn’t expected though was to be kneeling on ‘his’ bed the first Tuesday of every month, staring at himself in one of ‘his’ many mirrors, watching his buttocks slowly redden with the fall of the crop in the hand of ‘his' - he’s not sure what the correct term would be for the beautiful young man in the scarlet corset and black silk stockings. ‘He’ calls him Ma’am when permitted to speak at all.

He hadn’t expected how his cock would throb in time with the blood pounding in his ass, how easily he’d give himself over to the escalation of intensity watched closely by a pair of brilliant blue eyes (coloured contacts, surely). But as he comes hard, biting his tongue on the one word he must never say in this place, he is no longer surprised how much he likes this.

_Chicago_

Fraser and Kowalski tracked him down, found out he'd come back to Chicago with Armando's kink like a stain that wouldn't wash out, like a tattoo etched into his skin; they'd been tracking him the whole time, it turned out. They found him that night, the night he'd gotten desperate and incautious, misjudging the nature of the guy he'd hooked up with. They found him, like the pair of white knights they were; Kowalski slamming the guy up against the wall a few times after Ray insisted he wasn't going to press charges (and commit career suicide), Benny easing him into the back of Kowalski's seriously sweet GTO.

And now he was here in Benny and Kowalski's apartment, lying stretched out on their bed while Benny applied a salve to his cuts and bruises and Kowalski paced angrily in the tiny room.

"What, you can't talk to us? To your partners?" he ranted, while Benny made soothing noises at both of them. "You think we don't got your back, that we're not gonna take care of you?"

"Like that?" Ray rasped out. "You gonna look after me like that, huh?"

Kowalski paused beside the bed, tilting Ray's head up and stroking the ring of bruises round Ray's throat. Benny made a noise deep in his chest, his big, warm hands clamping firmly on Ray's shoulders as Kowalski slid his long fingers up to grasp Ray's chin, forcing Ray to meet his eyes.

"You want anything at all, you come to us. Understand?"

Something hard and scared inside Ray's guts dissolved. "Yeah," he said.

Kowalski's grip on his chin tightened. "Yes what?"

Ray closed his eyes and relaxed into the strength in those fingers.

"Yes, sir."


End file.
